#then standing there like “surely not. let me ask though” 🤣🤣

[inafieldofdaisies]

A Virtuous Business (2024) | Season 1, Episode 10

“You don't know how to play, right? I know it well, so I'll teach you step by step.”

[bigtreefest]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe thot about: CE!babe + “Er is it supposed to make that noise?” 🤣

Not Fast, Possibly Furious

Pairing: Boyfriend! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: All you want to do is treat your boyfriend to a nice trip, but things aren’t going your way. Ransom thinks he knows just what to do to clear your mind.

Word count: 1,564

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI - 18+ ONLY, smut, swears, kissing, a little bit of an argument and frustrated behavior, probably poor handling of emotions but let’s be real a lot of us would do the same thing, brief depictions of unprotected p in v sex, semi-public car sex, surprisingly soft Ranny, independent reader, me not knowing anything about cars

A/N: It’s been a long time coming! Thank you so much for this prompt, Siri! Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

At least the weather was nice. That’s what you had to keep reminding yourself, and Ransom, from where you were pulled off on the side of the road, scrambling under the hood of your old SUV.

After several attempts of pleading with your puppy dog eyes, you had finally convinced your boyfriend to let you surprise him with a weekend getaway to a place unknown. And boy, was that quite the difficult feat. Especially since he kept pushing back, saying he’d drive, even though you knew that was his sly attempt to figure out the destination. Ransom could never stand being left out of the loop, even when it was for something planned specifically with his pleasure in mind. The way he was going about it now was fun and playful at first, but then the smoke billowing from the engine of your car quickly put an end to that mood.

As you pulled over, you expected to see Ransom’s annoyed, told-you-so face, but instead, his brows were knitted together, mostly with concern. Before he could even open his mouth to suggest a solution, you were already out of the vehicle and investigating the issue.

At this point you’d lost track of how long you’d been working and finally believed you figured out what was wrong. At least you hoped so. A couple more failed attempts and you were about ready to have a conniption.

You peered out from behind the hood and looked at Ransom where he now sat in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, give it a go.”

As Ransom turned the key in the ignition, your hands flew to your hears. Loud chugs and sputtering were followed by a high-pitched screech of something, and then nothing. The engine reached a halt with a hiss.

In frustration, you groaned and looked up at the sky and then over at your boyfriend whose emotions were evidently feeding off of yours. Even through all of this, though, Ransom was trying so hard to make sure he kept his sass in check as to not offend you. He really appreciated the gesture of what you were trying to do this weekend and didn’t want to appear ungrateful or as if he didn’t believe in your capabilities, but before he could even think, the words just slipped out.

“Er, is it supposed to make that noise?”

What a mistake. All he heard was a clank of metal as you threw down a socket wrench onto the asphalt and stomped toward the grassy treeline just off the side of the road. When he got out of the driver’s seat and came around the hood to look at you, your hands were on your head, eyes squeezed shut in frustration, with the faintest glimmer, from what he could only assume were tears, running down your cheeks. Your wet lashes fluttered open and Ransom swore that look could kill.

“Of course it’s fucking not, Hugh!”

The last thing on Ransom’s mind right now was the mud underneath his loafers as he rushed towards you in an attempt to placate and plead for a tow truck.

“Sweetheart, I… didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that we’ve been at this for the better part of an hour and I don’t see your car going anywhere. Physically or repair-wise.”

His hands gently held your arms.

“Let me call a tow truck. I went to school with a kid whose family owned a company. We’ll get a good deal if you insist on paying for it.”

You scowled at him and swatted his hands away.

“I’m independent, Drysdale, not stupid. And I have insurance, anyway. But you touch that phone and you’re a dead man.”

You began storming back to the car.

“But if you just let me-“

Ransom attempted to reach for your hand but you shook it off, whipped around, and pointed a cautionary finger at him.

“Listen to me. This car, I paid for by myself. School, I got into by myself. And this trip, is something I planned on my own. So you saying for me to hand the problems, ones not unlike what I’ve faced my entire life, to somebody else, is not the way I operate. I never had that luxury and I don’t need it. You’re acting like I don’t have this under control and that you don’t believe in me. And that’s the last thing I need from my boyfriend when I’m doing my best.”

Ransom bit the inside of his lower lip and thought for a second, carefully choosing the right words to proceed. If you were anyone else, he would’ve thrown it right back just as hard. He knows you’ve worked for everything you have and he knows he had it easy his whole life. He had to go about this the right way.

“Sweetheart.”

His voice was low, genuine.

“I’m offering to make it easier on you. Not because I don’t believe in your capabilities, it’s just that I want to make sure a moment together for us isn’t wasted. Especially not with you cursing out an old engine when instead, we can be pressed close in bed. Okay?”

Before you could even protest, he had you wrapped up tight against him in his arms. He held you firmly, one hand bracing your head, the other rubbing up and down on your back. You could feel your shoulders relaxing just barely before he tilted your heads back and his eyes searched yours.

“So how about this: you get one more try to fix this, and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll call AAA, have them give us a tow back to my place, and we’ll figure out essentials and take the Beamer. Deal?”

You sighed in his hold, pressing your forehead against his for a second as you thought. When you tilted your head back up, Ransom took inventory of your face, the look of contemplation, still with a hint of frustration running through it. He pressed a warm, tender kiss to your lips that he realized was far too chaste for your liking when you chased his lips and whined as he pulled away.

A gentle thumb brushed your cheek while a smirk slowly took over his face. His eyes darkened, and he smiled with mischief that you knew all too well, but your brain was quickly growing fuzzy, dazed.

“Ah, is that what you need? A little something to work out this pent-up frustration?”

You panted lightly through parted lips and nodded, looking urgently into his eyes as you let out the breathiest affirmation to his question. He nodded in acknowledgment.

“I should’ve recognized it sooner. Get in the back seat.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails running up the back of his scalp until you reached the longer patch of the quiff on the top of Ransom’s head. You gripped firmly and yanked him upwards, met with him face-to-face after pulling him out from where the condensation was gathering against your neck.

His pupils were blown, lips parted in a groan that quickly grew into that smarmy smirk. His one hand continued its work between your bodies, the other bracing him against the seat to hold him above you. You could feel his thrusts growing sloppy, yet holding no less power. He was pushing himself to give you what you needed and it was paying off. He could tell by the way your knees squeezed his sides, making his smile grow even more. He could feel the way you gripped him tighter, your whole body pulling his into it.

“You close?”

All you could do was nod, words eluding you as you used your hold on him to shove his lips to yours in a fervent kiss. Like that display of affection was the final nudge, you tipped over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body with a wave of warmth, your body convulsing as Ransom pushed for a final few thrusts and came with you. The lip lock was broken with the groans of you both coming down from the high, but small pecks kept you close as you pet your fingers over the back of his hair.

You smiled up at Ransom, having almost forgotten your worries in the pleasure he was able to give you. But instead of being in a post orgasmic haze, it was like the storm of anger that had previously clouded your judgement had cleared and your gaze shot wide.

In concern, your boyfriend looked between your eyes, worry etching into his features as he brushed strands of sweaty hair out of your face.

“What? What is it, sweetheart?”

Snapped out of the moment of intimacy, you pushed his shoulders back, finding your shorts to shimmy them back on your body, still partially underneath your boyfriend’s.

Ransom sat there paralyzed on his knees, watching you pull yourself together just enough to go back outside the car, ignoring his inquisition. His bare ass was still in the breeze as you slipped your shoes on, trying not to lose the light bulb that went off in your head, and opened the car door.

You quickly turned back to him for a peck and paused for a second where he thought you might realize how quickly you just left him there, but all you said was, “It’s gotta be the spark plugs!”

Bonus a/n: heheheheh😈 we love a babe who likes to distract you to clear your mind. And when the rich brat gets a good head on his shoulders.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[revelboo]

I'm tryna be in a KOBD sandwhich fr. Like put them 42DDDs on me Breakdown and tell ur twink doctor to get behind me and put it in my [redacted] and then [redacted] until he [redacted]

... I apologize for my outburst

He knock on my out till I breakdown

Ok im done 😫

🤣 surrender to the thirst! 🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️ DP fem bits implied

Sharing

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Letting himself into his habsuite after a frustrating day of being threatened, roughed up, and yelled at by Lord Megatron all because his little heir had a tiny rattle when he’s venting, Knockout’s lips twitch at the wet smack of Breakdown rutting into you. The big mech on his knees behind you, hips pumping and it’s hard to be annoyed at the two of you for not waiting for him when he enjoys watching Breakdown servo’s flexing on your hips, spike driving deep, hips rocking urgently. Pleased that the two of you are getting along better, because for the longest time, Breakdown hadn’t wanted you. The big, fool actually afraid you were replacing him, instead of just adding a new element to their berthplay. And after finding out humans can be sparked? Needs Breakdown to spark you. Wants to hold Breakdown’s sparkling in his arms, feel the warmth of a little one in his arms. Desperate for it.

• Moaning as Breakdown’s servos tighten on your hips to jerk you back to meet his thrusts, you hear Knockout clear his vents and your head turns to look up at him mass shifted and standing over the two of you, watching Breakdown rutting against you. You try to say hi and it just comes out as a breathy whimper when Breakdown drives deep and overloads, feeling his excess running down your thighs as he leaves you behind. Again. It’s hard to be annoyed, when he’s usually surprisingly attentive with you. Except for when Knockout’s around, then he’s impatient and hurried. Know he loves you, but given a choice, Knockout’s definitely his favorite.

• ‘I’ve had a terrible day and you’re taking both of us,’ Knockout growls, the command in his deep voice almost making Breakdown overload all over again. Reluctantly slipping free of you, he palms you, servos driving into you until they’re slippery with slick as you whimper a soft ‘please.’ And you tremble when he presses his servo inside you, feeling how much tighter you are here, not able to take his spike here. Slicking you with his release for Knockout, before he’s standing and pulling you up. “Everything okay?” Breakdown asks, trying to get a read on the other mech as you wrap your hands on his spike, to make him shudder. ‘Megatron?’ You ask, eyes innocent as he rumbles at you.

• Watching Breakdown lift you and pull you down on his spike with a growl, Knockout shifts behind you as Breakdown’s big hands flex on your hips when you wrap your legs around him with a moan. Releasing his spike, Knockout presses against you. “Relax,” he growls. Because you’re ready for this, he’s been training you so they could both claim you for weeks. Rocking lazily against you, he hears you whimper as you squirm between them and he’s slowly stretching you when you suddenly relax to let him drive deep. “I want a sparkling,” he admits, hating the vulnerability in the words. And Breakdown’s optics widen, the big mech almost looking scared.

• Gasping as Knockout drives deep, the feeling of fullness is almost overwhelming and they’re not even moving yet. Trapped between them as Breakdown raggedly vents and growls something in their language and Knockout hesitantly responds. “If you’re talking about sparking me, I’m in,” you manage and they both freeze to make you sure that’s what they’re talking about even though you should have a say, too. Hear them both growl and then they both begin slowly thrusting. Can feel them both bottoming out inside you. Breakdown finding a rhythm and Knockout matching it. And it really is too much, body racing for that peak much faster than you’d imagined possible. Feeling both of them going deep. Knockout venting against you, hands on your middle as Breakdown’s servos tighten on you. Hearing their engines getting noisy as fans kick on and you’re sweating as they start overheating.

• Groaning feeling Knockout’s spike rubbing against his own through a thin layer of you, Breakdown swears. And you’re squirming urgently between them, gasping his name and Knockout’s. Crying out as you come apart and his pace falters when Knockout grabs the back of one of his hands, snarling. Hips pumping as the medic overloads, head thrown back and you whimper between them when he leans down to claim Knockout’s mouth, overloading inside you. Feels Knockout shift his plating and he doesn’t hesitate to shift his own. Imagining a little Knockout as his spark snares you and Knockout both. His back hits the wall as Knockout’s hips pump lazily. So tangled in you and Knockout both, he’s almost drowning, coaxing hungrily to spark you. To spark Knockout. Needing to hold a sparkling in his arms and not caring how he gets one.

[birdiewriteslit]

Omg I love Persassy LOL. I was thinking maybe you could do an imagine where Percy knows about Luke and Reader but doesn’t like it and sasses them all the time but so basically Luke and Reader are kind of having a “date night” but in Luke’s cabin and they’re just like laying in his bed and stuff but the morning after, Percy is wondering the Reader is because the Reader is his half sister and like he goes the Luke’s cabin to ask him where Reader is and he finds them asleep in the same bed and he gets mad and sassy and starts lecturing Reader and Luke while they’re all confused because they just woke up🤣🤣

omg yes i can totally do this

luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: persassy (do i even have to say it?), fluff, general show plot ignorance

Percy was staring at you with an unpleasant look on his face as you stole glances at Luke from the Poseidon table.

“Can you not do that in front of my dinner?”

Luke met your eyes from across the room. He grinned at you and you smiled dreamily back at him. “Do what?”

“Ogle him,” Percy said as though it was obvious.

You snapped your gaze to Percy’s. “I’m not ogling him.”

“You so are. Please refrain,” he persisted.

“How about you refrain from having an attitude?” you countered.

“This attitude is your fault,” he sassed, flicking a pea at you.

You caught it before as it rolled off the table and flung it back at his face. He flinched as it hit him and it fell on the floor. “You’re impossible.”

Percy shrugged. “You love me.”

You didn’t say anything. You would be lying if you denied it. Percy seemed to understand anyway, as he held back from sharing any thoughts about Luke for the rest of the meal.

If there was one thing you knew about your half-brother, it was that he was a little menace. He was always telling off your boyfriend for random things. These things mostly consisted of Luke’s actions in hypothetical situations Percy had made up.

He was also always telling you that you were too good for Luke. You were sure he would say that about any guy you dated though, because Luke was probably the best guy around.

He was always nice to Percy, and he easily combatted his sass, which you honestly thought Percy secretly enjoyed.

Deep down, you knew Percy actually liked Luke and looked up to him a lot, not that he would ever admit it.

After campfire that night, Luke was at your cabin, swinging the door open and calling your name.

“What do you want?” Percy responded rudely.

“Take a guess,” Luke said, unbothered.

“Percy, watch your attitude,” you said, walking toward the door and giving Luke a quick kiss.

“Bleh. Stop being nasty in here,” Percy objected.

“Lucky for you, we’re leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer him and let the door swing shut behind you as you left the cabin.

“Y/n?” he called from inside.

Luke held your hand as you walked together to his cabin. Some of his siblings were asleep when you entered, and some of them let out a few teasing comments, but all of them were used to you sleeping there every once in a while.

“Lights out,” Luke said, flipping the light switch. A few campers groaned in protest before collapsing onto their beds.

You climbed into Luke’s bunk after him and he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. You relaxed into his touch, falling asleep quickly.

The next morning you were not awoken by the sun, but by your brother. “Well, well, well,” he said, standing over the bunk with his arms folded.

“Perce?” you said, sleep evident in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in the cabin when I woke up, so I used my critical thinking skills, and here we are,” he explained.

Luke stirred next to you, taking his hand off of your hip to rub his eyes. “Baby? Has the conch blown yet?”

“Yeah, thirty minutes ago. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. How irresponsible,” Percy scoffed.

“Next time, we’ll sleep in our cabin, so you can wake us up at the right time,” you suggested.

Percy scrunched up his face in disgust. “Absolutely not. I don’t need to hear whatever weird stuff you freaks get up to. I need my beauty sleep, but you probably wouldn’t understand that, Luke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, offended.

“Hurry up and get dressed. I hate sitting alone,” Percy demanded and left you and Luke alone in the cabin again.

You turned back into his warmth, refusing to get out of bed. Luke got the message, pulling the blanket up over you. Percy could survive one day without you at the table.

[chelseaknoo]

I thought of this funny idea.The reader and eminem are married and she's like a supermodel.What Marshall doesn’t know about her is that she has 2 other identical sisters making them triplets.The reader decides to prank Marshall ,making him think he's going insane while recording 🤣

Eminem x model! Reader

Plot:You Decide to Prank Your Rapper Husband with Your Twin Sisters.

As close as you are to your sisters, they’ve always been a huge part of your life, and you’ve shared everything together—except for this little secret. Now, you're feeling playful and want to prank Marshall with your sisters. You’ve been planning it for a while, coordinating with your sisters to make sure everything goes perfectly.

As the day of the prank approaches, you can’t help but smile, knowing that it’ll be a fun, lighthearted moment in your already exciting life with Marshall.

You walked up to him slowly, your bare feet making no sound against the tiled floor. With a slight tilt of your head, you let your lashes flutter, your lips curving into a playful smile. Standing close enough for the warmth of your body to brush against his arm, you reached out and lightly trailed a finger along his forearm.

“Marshall…” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, as though the words themselves carried a secret. His eyes flicked from his phone to you, curiosity replacing his distraction.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your robe to part slightly at the neckline, revealing a glimpse of lace. “I miss you.” Your tone was a blend of longing and mischief, every word laced with invitation.

With a gentle touch, you rested your hand against his chest, your eyes locking onto his. “Why don’t you come to bed with me?” you asked, your voice like silk itself, smooth and irresistible.

Marshall’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he locked his phone and set it down on the counter. His lips curved into a small smirk as he looked you over, his eyes lingering on the soft shimmer of your silk robe and the teasing glimpse of lace beneath it.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises this morning,” he said, his voice low and amused. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as though trying to appear unfazed. But you caught the flicker of interest in his gaze—he wasn’t fooling anyone.

You tilted your head, your lashes fluttering again. “I’ve been full of surprises since the day you met me,” you teased, letting your fingers trail down his chest slowly. “But I think you’ll like this one.”

Marshall chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Oh, I’m sure I will. But tell me something…” He leaned down, bringing his face closer to yours. “What’s got you in this kind of mood?”

You shrugged innocently, though the small, sly smile on your lips betrayed you. “Can’t a wife just miss her husband? Or do I need a reason to want to spend some time with you?”

Marshall let out a mock sigh of defeat, his hands resting at your waist. “You really know how to make a guy feel guilty, huh?”

“Guilty enough to follow me upstairs?” you asked, your tone playful but insistent as you tugged lightly on his shirt.

His smirk turned into a full grin as he took a step closer, his hands sliding to the small of your back. “Lead the way, Mrs. Mathers.

After you both walked upstairs, Marshall, unable to contain his desire, pushed you gently onto the bed. He began to kiss you passionately, his lips roaming all over your face, your mouth, expressing the love and hunger he felt for you in the moment. His hands slid over your body, his touch electrifying as he showered you with affection, making your heart race.

However, as things started to heat up, Marshall paused for a moment, his hand reaching towards the drawer to grab a condom. But to his surprise, he found that the drawer was empty. His brows furrowed in mild frustration, and he quickly pulled away from you, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. “Hold on, babe. I’ll be right back.”

He kissed you one last time before getting up, his eyes still filled with desire as he made his way to the closet downstairs to grab the box of condoms.

As Marshall opened the closet, rummaging through the shelves to find the box of condoms, he suddenly heard a voice that made him freeze in his tracks. "Hey, babe," came your usual flirty tone, playful and seductive, but it sounded as though it was coming from behind him. He turned around, expecting to see you standing there, but what he saw left him momentarily speechless.

There, standing in the doorway, was “you”—or at least, someone who looked exactly like you. She wore the same outfit you had on earlier, the same familiar smile, the same playful glint in her eyes. The resemblance was so uncanny that Marshall blinked in disbelief, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. He had just left you in the bedroom, lying on the bed, and now here you were, standing in front of him, calling him “babe” with that same flirtatious tone.

Confusion swept over him as he tried to process the situation. His gaze shifted from the woman standing before him to the bedroom where he had left you moments ago. How could this be? Wasn’t she just lying there on the bed, her body warm and relaxed?

Before he could question it further, the woman who looked like you reached out and touched him, her hand lightly grazing his chest. "You look so good," she purred, her fingers trailing down his shirt as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. Marshall stood frozen, completely baffled. He couldn’t understand what was happening, but everything about her—her voice, her movements, even the way she called him "babe"—was so familiar.

In a state of confusion, he took a step back, his mind racing. What was going on? How could you be in two places at once? Had he lost track of what was happening? Was he dreaming? His thoughts were spinning as he tried to make sense of the impossible situation.

The woman who looked exactly like you stepped closer, her eyes locking with Marshall’s as she flashed a seductive smile. "So," she began, her voice soft and inviting, "how about we watch a movie together?" She raised an eyebrow, her playful tone making the suggestion sound more like a command than a casual offer.

Marshall’s heart skipped a beat, his confusion deepening. A movie?But just moments ago, you had asked him to come to bed with you, your words full of passion and desire. Now, this woman—who was supposed to be you—was suggesting something completely different. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Wait," he stammered, his mind racing. "But... didn’t you just say you wanted to go to bed?" He looked at her, still reeling from the sudden shift in behavior. It felt like something was terribly wrong, but everything about this woman mirrored you—her voice, her look, even the way she moved.

She chuckled softly, brushing off his confusion with a casual wave of her hand. "What are you talking about?" she asked with a coy smile, her tone almost mocking. "I didn’t say anything like that. Now come on, hurry up and follow me," she urged, her voice taking on a more insistent note. She gave him a playful nudge, guiding him toward the living room. "The movie’s waiting."

Marshall stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to process everything. Was he imagining things? Was he somehow caught in a strange, surreal moment where his own senses were betraying him? He had just been in the bedroom, and you had clearly asked him to come to bed. Now, this woman—this version of you—was acting as though nothing had happened, inviting him to do something completely different. It didn’t make sense.

His heart raced as he followed her, his mind reeling with questions. He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The woman in front of him smiled again, leading him into the next room as if nothing unusual had occurred, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Marshall walked with the woman who looked exactly like you, his mind was still spinning with questions. Suddenly, another figure appeared from the hallway, stopping him in his tracks. It was you—or so it seemed. This woman was identical to the first, wearing the same radiant smile, her voice dripping with flirtation as she stepped close and touched his arm.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, her fingers lightly brushing his bicep. "Let’s go shopping. I saw this jacket today that you’d look so sexy in." Her tone was playful, but her touch was lingering, her gaze locked on his.

Marshall’s eyes widened, and he took a half-step back, glancing between the two women. His brain struggled to keep up. "Wait... what the hell is going on here?" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. He looked at the second woman, then back at the first, his confusion mounting by the second. They were identical, down to every detail—their outfits, their voices, the way they smiled at him.

Before he could even try to untangle the madness, you appeared at the top of the stairs. "Marshall?" you called out, your voice laced with playful impatience as you made your way down. "What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting for you." Your expression was cool and composed, as if you didn’t notice the two women standing in the hallway.

Marshall turned to you, relief flickering in his eyes—but it was short-lived. He gestured wildly at the two identical women. "Do you see this?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual. "What—how—" He was at a loss for words, his thoughts completely scrambled.

But you remained calm, brushing past the other two women as though they didn’t exist. "What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, pretending not to notice the chaos.

Marshall blinked, his head snapping between all three of you. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, his voice full of frustration and bewilderment. "How are there three of you? And why aren’t you saying anything about this?" he asked, pointing at you.

You simply shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Maybe you’re just tired," you said, feigning innocence as you casually leaned against the banister.

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the impossible scene unfolding in front of him. "This... this isn’t normal," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You can’t all be you."

The other two women grinned, each stepping closer to him, leaving him completely trapped in a whirlwind of confusion. Meanwhile, you stood back, struggling to keep a straight face as you watched your prank play out exactly as planned.

He turned to you, his eyes desperate. “You’re the real one, right? Please tell me you’re the real one.”

You bit your lip, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… maybe I am,” you said coyly, drawing out the moment. “Or maybe I’m not.”

Marshall groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This isn’t funny anymore!” he said, his voice muffled.

The three of you exchanged amused looks, barely able to hold in your laughter as the prank continued to unfold.

As Marshall stood there, completely overwhelmed, you and your sisters could no longer hold it in. Laughter erupted from all three of you, echoing through the hallway. It started as a soft giggle but quickly turned into full-blown, uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down your faces as you clutched your sides.

Marshall blinked, his brows furrowing as he looked at each of you. “Wait, what—what’s so funny?” he stammered, his voice tinged with frustration and bewilderment. “What the hell is going on here?”

One of your sisters wiped a tear from her eye, barely able to contain herself. “Oh my god, his face,” she managed to choke out between laughs, pointing at him. “He looks like he’s seen a ghost!”

The other sister doubled over, clutching her stomach. “Marshall, you should’ve seen yourself! You were *so* confused!”

You, still laughing, finally stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Babe, calm down,” you said, your voice trembling with amusement. “It’s a prank. These are my sisters.”

Marshall’s jaw dropped, and he looked between the three of you again, his confusion slowly giving way to realization. “Wait... sisters?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You’re telling me there’s *three* of you?”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep. Identical triplets.” You gestured to your sisters, who stood there grinning like Cheshire cats. “I can’t believe I never told you. I figured it was time to introduce them... in our own way.”

Marshall blinked a few times, his brain still catching up. “Triplets? Are you kidding me? You mean to tell me this whole time I’ve been with you, and I never knew you had two carbon copies running around?”

Your sisters burst into laughter again, one of them playfully nudging his arm. “Carbon copies? Ouch, Marshall,” one of them teased. “We prefer ‘flawless originals.’”

The other sister chimed in, smirking. “Don’t take it too hard. She wanted to see how long she could keep it a secret. And well... this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

Marshall groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this. You seriously let me think I was losing my mind!” He looked at you, half-annoyed but mostly bewildered. “How long have you been planning this?”

You shrugged, a sly smile on your face. “A while. I knew it would get you good.”

Marshall sighed, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “All of you.”

One of your sisters grinned. “We take that as a compliment.”

The tension finally broke as Marshall let out a chuckle, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “You got me,” he admitted, holding up his hands. “I’ll give you that. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily. Payback’s coming.”

You leaned in, wrapping your arms around him with a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it is. But admit it—you’ll never forget this moment.”

Marshall shook his head, a bemused smile on his face as he glanced at your sisters. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Triplets. Unbelievable.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Tommy’s teenage love, whom he got separated from when he went to france.. Sad, bitter and heartbreaking end for them.

But now years later he sees her again, and the tension is 👀👀

I know this doesn't have to be dark but of course I made it a little dark 🤣 tommy just can't take no for an answer...

warnings: DUBCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!, yandere, infidelity/cucking, breeding

It wasn't until he tried to kiss you, and you backed away, that he really got angry. Up until that point, it seemed like he'd thought the life you'd made for yourself while he was gone was just a minor inconvenience at most-- but your resistance irritated him. You didn't remember being so nervous around him when he was upset.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he asked softly, and you weren't even sure how to answer that question... wasn't it obvious?

"Thomas," you mumbled, "it was nice to catch up, but..."

He tightened his fists as you trailed off, making you feel oddly trapped while standing in your own kitchen. "I kept my promise," he told you firmly. "I never loved anyone else."

"You can't be angry with me," you scoffed. "Tommy, we were children! We didn't understand what any of it really meant--"

"You didn't really love me?" he assumed sharply.

"O-of course I did," you sighed, "Tommy, of course. I loved you so much. But I grew up."

Your fingers absent-mindedly twisted your wedding ring around your finger, guilt stirring in your chest. If you were honest with yourself, you knew you never moved on from Tommy completely-- no one ever forgets their first love. But you'd managed to put it all in the back of your mind, telling yourself that was all over... until you saw him again. Your heart could've stopped, seeing him at your door; it was like seeing him for the first time all over again, even though you could see how unkind the years had been to him.

But you had to shove all those feelings down now, and think of your husband. "You should go," you whispered, "before he gets back."

"I grew up too," he sneered, taking a step closer that made your heart race for multiple, conflicting reasons. "You have no idea the man I am now. People do what I say or they suffer consequences."

You swallowed thickly, horrified to see the darkness in his eyes-- something totally unlike the gentle, passionate young man you'd known all those years ago.

"If I want something, I take it," he continued. "Doesn't matter if it's a horse, or a gun, or another man's wife."

"Tommy," you whimpered, "my husband will be home soon... you need to leave before he comes back."

He stepped closer again, grabbing you and holding you tightly against him when you tried to step away. "Good," he decided flatly. "He can see what a little whore you are when a real man takes you."

He shoved you down onto the table harshly, ignoring your whine of pain as he pushed the bowls and plates out of the way, most of them falling off and shattering; none of that bothered him, he was too busy roughly pulling up your skirts, unfastening his trousers, holding you down. "T-Tommy, please," you choked.

"I know," he sighed, "I know, you need me so badly. How long has it been since anyone properly made love to you, darling? He could never take care of you like I do."

Sliding his fat head through your folds, you choked on a little sob.

"You still get so wet for me," he grinned happily, "still dripping, just like I remember."

Truth be told, your body still responded to him... that couldn't be denied now. You had a natural urge to give in and let him take you, let him bring you the pleasure you hadn't known since he left; but your logic and your dignity kept up the fight, though it was pretty useless against Tommy's strength-- with only one hand, he held you down while he guided his cock to your entrance.

He sighed a heavy, dark sigh of relief as he sheathed himself inside you, relaxing all over like a burden had been lifted off of him. "Oh, love," he purred, rubbing your back soothingly to try to help you stop shaking. "Oh, I'd nearly forgotten... nearly lost the memory entirely of how warm you are inside..."

You, meanwhile, were whimpering and willing your legs not to shake-- you couldn't let him see how much you loved the feeling, how you'd longed to take him inside you again, or he'd never leave you alone.

"My beautiful," he panted, "my darling..."

Setting a rough and desperate pace, his hands grabbed greedily at your body, forcing you to bite down harder on your lip to keep from moaning.

"You wouldn't believe how I missed this," he breathed. "Thought of you every day in France-- only way I survived, thinking of you... said you'd wait for me, love..."

You tried to hold back your tears, all of this bringing back emotions you thought you'd buried forever-- I would've waited for you forever, Tommy, you wanted to say, I wish I had, but I was scared that I'd never see you again.

You didn't say it, though, because you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together. You were struggling enough now, impossibly conflicted by what he was doing to you. For years you'd imagined seeing him again, but it never went quite like this in your head.

"T-Tommy," you managed choke out, and he cooed your name back at you sweetly.

"I know," he offered again, "it's really me, love-- we're really together again. I won't let you go this time."

You hadn't been lying about your husband coming home soon-- maybe Tommy thought you were, as an excuse to make him leave, but you weren't. You sobbed in shame and fear as he unlocked the door and walked in, finding you two in the kitchen with the most (understandably) bewildered look on his face.

Tommy didn't even stop.

"Wha-- Christ?! Who the fuck are you?!" your husband spat out, stammering over himself.

"I'm Tommy fuckin' Shelby," Tommy growled.

"O-oh," your husband choked, stepping back shakily towards the door. You hid your face, unable to look at him, so you only knew he left when you heard the door shut a minute later. Tommy purred and leaned down to rest his head on your back, between your shoulder blades.

"Don't think he's gonna give us any more trouble," Tommy chuckled darkly. "Fuck, love, I'm so close already-- never knew how to control myself with you..."

The way he breathed against your skin-- that hadn't changed at all. You hadn't even realized you remembered it until you heard it, and it was like you were that girl again, the girl he loved so long ago-- but you weren't anymore, or at least, that's what you had thought.

"Almost ready to fill you up nice and deep, hm?"

"Tommy," you choked, tensing up under him, and he groaned happily.

"Can't wait for our little family, darling," he cooed, "all the babies we're gonna have-- like we talked about back then, remember?"

His thrusts came faster and harder, shaking the whole table under you, and you kept hiding your face so you could try to deny your pleasure. Maybe you could hide it from yourself, but it was useless trying to hide it from him.

"I know how badly you need it," he groaned, "how long you've wanted this-- I'm yours, love, all yours again. You'll never have to be away from me again."

You knew what that really meant was that you'd never get a chance to be away from him again. It scared you just as much as it comforted you.

He came deep inside you with a long, low moan-- and for a long time, he just stayed within you, catching his breath. He only pulled out so he could lift you up a bit, turning you to face him, and finally getting you to kiss him this time. You struggled to focus on kissing him back when you could feel his come running down your thighs.

"You were always mine," he informed you with a gentle whisper against your lips. "Doesn't matter whose ring is on your finger. You'll always be mine."

[krirebr]

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

[liesandspookyfairytales]

Pandora's mafia

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Recom!reader

A/N: I originally wanted to make this one longer, but it's been so long since I've published anything new, so I decided to just publish it. Reminder, this is a part one of a series!

Also please, please leave comments 🥺🙏🏻. I am officially identifying as a comment whore 🤣

Anyway, ejoy!

Part one |

(enjoy this very jummy gif of Quaritch)

I swirl in my chair while listening to Parker Selfridge drone on and on, trying not to show my boredom and annoyance. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Tonowari and his wife, Ronal. While Tonowari is doing a remarkable good job on masking his emotions, his wife on the other end… I let out a groan as Selfridge continue’s talking, showing no signs of stopping. “That’s enough, Selfridge,” I snap, “or are you trying to take out the competition by boring us to death.” Selfridge looks taken aback and stutters nervously. Seriously, for a guy in this type of business, he sure lacks a pair of balls. Large ones at least, if he has them, which I imagine he doesn’t, I cannot imagine that they’re very big.

“Miss L/N is right,” says Tonowari, nodding in my direction, “you are wasting our time, Selfridge, we’ve got better things to do than listen to your nonsense.” He stands and holds out his hand for his wife, ever the gentleman, and leaves the conference room. I look Selfridge straight in the eyes, making him sweat, before making my way out of the conference room as well. I hear Selfridge scramble to get up, “miss L/N, I don’t know if you’ve considered my proposal, but–” “Absolutely not,” I dismiss him, while pushing through the doors. Outside, three out of twelve of my bodyguards are waiting for me. “But as I was going to say, I think that it could be greatly beneficial if we–” I harshly cut him off again, “I said no, Selfridge.” I feel my bodyguards flanking me. “Besides, does your mistress even know about this proposal?” I spit out the word ‘mistress’ with disgust and smirk at his pale face. Selfridge likes to pretend that he’s the boss, only because he inherited his business from his father, but we all know who pulls the strings and it’s not him.

Turning my back toward the weakling of a man, I stride towards the elevator. One of my bodyguards pushes the button for the elevator and soon, the doors open allowing us to get inside the packed space. The woman next to me looks up from her phone, sees me and my bodyguards and rushes out of the elevator. I hear one of the three let out a soft snort before masking his expression. The elevator ride to the parking lot is slow and in torturous heat. When the doors finally open and let in the cool parking lot air, I almost let out a sigh of relief.

During the ride to my estate, I pull out my laptop, typing out a quick summary of the meeting and clearing out my mails. “You’re working too much,” states one of my bodyguards. I humm in response, knowing he’s right, but leading one of the biggest mafia’s in Pandora is not an easy feat.

Even though Pandora is officially a rogue state in the United states, which is why the law enforcement has no authority here, they have been causing more and more problems the past few weeks. They have been giving me major headaches and sleepless nights. Of course this all started with these idiots electing a new president, who’s completely incompetent. But that’s not my business. As long as he doesn’t set foot in Pandora, I can’t bring myself to care.

The driver stops in front of the main gates of my estate and rolls down the window and presses a button on the little black box next to the car. “Who is it,” asks a monotone voice. “We’re back,” responds the driver in an equally monotone voice. The black box buzzes and the gates open. The car slowly rolls to a stop in front of the stairs leading to the front door. I throw open the door and quickly ascend the steps, my bodyguards following close behind.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

first off let me tell you....I really like all of you write about the shadowpeach x reader from the start until now and I sudden have a very funny imagine that I want to share with you :)

like the other can't understand reader is she speak her original language when the magic does not translate it right? what about something that have happen that make the reader angry at hell like ( someone ( demon or human ) shaming her or talk shit to the spirit or to the little simian right ? I want the reader sometime be feisty and talk back to them with no holding back or even curse them in reader own language....the other maybe not understand what she saying at first but from time their manage to learning about reader language then is would be so funny when their reaction to this you know ? 👀🤣😙

"What did you just say?" Reader asked slowly turning her head around.

The man in front of her laughed, "I said that you're little monster friend deserve to be put to death." He said pointing his blade at Spirit. Spirit didn’t react besides her eyes narrowing, she wasn’t looking for a fight with this human.

*Thump* *Thump*

Reader knew that her monkeys have not always been the best behaved. However she also knew that they were hers, weather they were arguing with other people or keeping her safe. There was good and bad in everyone and she knew that very, very well. She was not about to let this man just say-

*Thump* *Thump*

Her heart pounded in her chest as she gritted her teeth. Spirit was her friend, Spirit was her new sister, she was not about to let someone talk shit about her!

*Thump* *Thump*

“It’s no wonder those disgusting little rodents follow you two around,” The man gestured towards Peaches and Plums who both hissed at him, their tails wrapped around your neck to keep balanced. Both of them huddled closer to you as if your ears from this man’s words.

“Maybe I should-.”

*Snap*

“Go fuck yourself. You think just because you’re some big man that means everything you say or do is okay. Let me tell you it’s not! We have done nothing but try to pass through town peacefully! The only one causing problems is you!” You shout, everyone around you going completely silent. Eyes wide with shock, even your monkeys went silent.

You wouldn’t stand for this! There was no way you’d stand for this! “Get the hell out of our way,” Your words piercingly calm as you stepped forward so your faces were close.

“No one insults my family, Spirit is my sister, Peaches and Plums are my monkeys. So you can go fuck yourself and get the hell out of my way,” Every word pierced the air causing the man to actually stumble back. For a moment it looked as though he was about to say something back but with one look behind you his eyes widened and he scrambled to get as far away as possible.

As soon as he saw the opportunity, the man bolted. Weather it was from you or not was unknown but you didn't really care.

"Hmph, are you okay my sweets? I hope so. That man was a rude- pardon my language... bitch," you grumbled with annoyance lacing your tone.

The monkeys looked at you with shock. Before glancing at each other.

'We're her monkeys!?' Macaque chirped with a blush.

'She's going to be our mate!' Wukong chirped happily brgore also muttering, 'That was hot.'

Macaque whipped his head to look at his mate with an approving look. He agreed, you did look rather hot when you were mad. Spirit didn't understand anything but let out a chuckle, proud of you for standing up for herself.

Here you go! I'm sorry for the wait, anon. But I hope to answer a few more asks today.

I'm also posting at least one chapter today right around noon. 😁 So be sure to check that out.

[pricklysplendours]

A Lymond thing I have wondered about:

There is one, just one, of his sexual encounters over the series that I just do not get. All the others make sense to me, narratively, character-wise, except this one. So I figured I'd ask if anyone has a better idea about it than me.

(series spoilers abound!)

It's the soap-merchant's wife in the first chapter of Pawn in Frankincense. So -

Game of Kings: Excommunicated traitor. Young. Living with mercenaries and playing up to their expectations. Some free and fun sex would make sense. There's no explicit encounters, though it's noted that he disappears with some of Molly's girls at the Ostrich, and there's hints of maybe a relationship with Molly herself. Maybe he's having sex, though I wonder if it's a case (as identified in Queens Play) where rumours abound and he's happy to let them stand. He may not actually be sleeping with anyone but, if he is, I'd get it.

Queens Play: Hoooooooo boy (more accurately, Thady Boy 🤣), Lymond is having a great time letting loose and romping around the French court. Again, is he actually having full-on sexual encounters, or just playing around and letting rumour do the rest? Who knows, but it would be no surprise if he is. There's also the more expedient liaisons with Martine and Oonagh, both perfectly fitting for character and narrative as he enjoys sex for an advantageous purpose.

Disorderly Knights: Oh, Joleta. He shouldn't have done it. He knows he shouldn't have done it. But he did it. I get the sense he hoped, optimistically, he could achieve similar to Oonagh - finding a place of understanding, meeting each other on equal (and in this case, violent) terms. Anyway, I understand why he had sex with her, unpalatable as it is.

Pawn in Frankincense: Besides opening chapter giggly soap merchant's wife, I think the only sex Lymond has here is the Agha Morat, and that's very clearly not for the fun of it.

The Ringed Castle: As through PiF, Lymond is not in any place personally to be enjoying casual sex. There's Guzel, which I think he ultimately 'enjoys'? if only embarking on to protect Venceslas. (I actually find his whole relationship with Guzel fascinating - it's not something he wants, but can appreciate for what it is, and is grateful for? There's one little reference in their - beautifully written - sex scene, that hints at him being fairly mechanical about it, if very satisfying for Guzel! Anyway - that's beside my point here). There's also the prostitute, immediately following his disastrous encounter with Kate and Sybilla. Again, this makes sense as a desperate and self-destructive outlet/release of distress, and is one he later regrets.

Checkmate: Philippa. Enough said. (OH. Edit to add, Catherine's mother - which he explains to Philippa, expedient. Is prepared to with Catherine, again, because he feels like he needs to.)

So, back to the soap merchant's wife in Baden. Unless there's something I'm missing, there's nothing to be gained here - it comes across as nothing more than a casual, diverting hook-up. And that's just not something Lymond does. At least, not Lymond post Queens' Play, and even before it could be argued as doubtful. Dunnett herself said his introduction to sex was 'damaging', through Margaret Lennox then the galleys. Sure, he engages in it happily, but you get the sense that it's never without cause - besides the months of Queen's Play, which I think can be considered separately due to the circumstances.

And especially at the start of Pawn in Frankincense, when the last two encounters we know of were Oonagh - leading to an innocent child and the very chase he's embarked on - and Joleta - which he can't but associate with guilt over Will's death. You just cannot convince me, whatever his attitudes to sex may have been previously, that PiF Lymond has any interest in or desire for casual hookups.

Is he hoping to wrangle something about Gabriel out of it, by nature of her having been there? If that's the case, it's not obvious, and he already had all the information needed from the fake nuns. I just don't get it.

Here's my super left-field theory, and it may be a terrible one. Dunnett was great friends with Ian Fleming, and is said to have designed Lymond to be to Renaissance heroes what Bond is to spies. The opening chapter of Pawn in Frankincense has always struck me as very James Bond-esque, with the intrigue and entertaining (very public) fight scene. And... what is more 'Bond', than to do all that, then go to bed with the attractive girl also featured in the scene..?

So that's it. It has occurred to me that Lymond sleeping with the soap merchant's wife was an effort by Dunnett to just write a really cracking, entertaining, possibly Bond-esque romp for her latest opening chapter. (And for the record, Philippa's comment to Jerott that "at least they're both nice and clean" absolutely SENDS me.) But for both the narrative and Lymond's character, it makes NO sense to me. And it's the only one of his canonical sexual encounters to not make sense, and that just bothers me slightly every time.

I'd love to hear any ideas and insight, it may well be something I'm just missing!

[darkluminosity]

For the character comforts game:

⛑ - Some tender first-aid; for Diluc 👀

Thanks for the ask Alina! It’s funny you chose this for him… the last chapter of Fighting Winter had some tender first aid, but I didn’t even think about it until after I posted. And then another WIP (not Fighting Winter, another one) has some not-so-tender first aid 🤣 man, he gets hurt a LOT. I do have a head canon for that actually, that as a kid he got hurt often, and Kaeya was the opposite (where he got sick a lot instead of injured).

So TL;DR - here goes with kid!Diluc getting hurt 🤕 more under the cut!

=====

Kaeya ran into the foyer, out of breath in exasperation and nearly tripping over his feet as he ran toward Crepus at his desk, tapping him on the arm repeatedly to get his attention.

“Hm? What is it, Kaeya?” He stopped what he was doing when he noticed his younger son was on the verge of tears.

“It's Diluc,” the boy’s tears overflowed and he started sobbing, words slightly incomprehensible. As soon as Crepus heard his older son’s name, his heart dropped. “H-he- got h-hurt and–”

His father rose immediately and lifted Kaeya up in his arms, trying to calm him down while steeling his own nerves. Kaeya often cried since he had just started living with them about six months prior, but he rarely looked this panicked and shaken. Crepus’ imagination started to take off, but instead of entertaining them he shook those thoughts from his mind, diverting his attention to the present.

“Don't worry,” he kept his voice soft spoken and low. “Can you show me where he is?”

=====

Meanwhile, Diluc sulked in the dirt near one of the vineyards, unable to walk. His right ankle throbbed uncontrollably whenever he tried to move it. Knees and hands covered with dirt from the fall he had taken, the redhead shifted himself into a more comfortable position near one of the trellises while he waited for Kaeya to return with their father.

Why does this always happen, he lamented. We were just racing and then–

“Luc!” His thoughts were interrupted by their father’s voice. A combination of relief and guilt overcame him. Their father came into view, setting Kaeya down and kneeling close to him. “What happened?” He searched the boy, noticing all of the dirt on him but no blood, thankfully, except for the minor scrapes on his hands and knees.

Diluc glanced over at Kaeya, who was still tearful and silent. “We were running around and I tripped,” he sighed, pointing at his right ankle. “I can’t walk. It hurts when I try to stand–”

Crepus gently rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let's get you inside, then we’ll take care of it, okay?” Diluc nodded, pride still wounded but relieved that their father didn't ask any further questions. Crepus lifted him up and carried him in his arms, taking Kaeya by the other hand as they headed back home together.

=====

When they got back, Adelinde already had some fresh towels and a first aid kit ready for them. “I’ll make some hot chocolate,” she said to the boys. “Master Crepus, would you like any? Or is there anything else you need?”

“I’m fine, Adelinde. Thank you,” he replied, setting the redhead down gently on the couch. “If you could make an ice pack though?”

“Right away, Master,” she replied, heading toward the kitchen.

“So you're sure it's just your ankle that hurts? Nothing else?” Diluc nodded in reply.

Crepus took several of the alcohol wipes, gingerly wiping down the redhead’s hands, arms and knees. There was a slight stinging sensation, but Diluc had grown accustomed to it from several falls he had taken in the years prior. Between him and Kaeya, it seemed as though he was more likely to get injured, while his younger brother was more prone to catching colds. The redheaded boy said nothing while his father went through the motions to apply the ointment and bandages on all of his scrapes.

Afterward, Crepus removed the boy's shoes and socks, receiving a wince or two as he did so on the right side. Adelinde returned at just the right time, placing the ice-filled bag on the tray, along with two mugs of hot chocolate. The boys each took a mug, thanking the head maid as Crepus continued to examine Diluc’s ankle.

“We’ll take you to the dispensary in a bit to confirm, but it doesn't look broken. Just sprained,” he concluded, bringing the ice pack closer to his son’s ankle. Diluc flinched slightly at the initial contact, since it was rather cold, but the ice pack started to numb the throbbing pain after a few minutes. He continued to drink his hot chocolate quietly, while trying to quell his own frustrations with how clumsy he'd been. Again.

Crepus moved the ice pack away for a moment and grabbed an elastic bandage to slowly wrap around Diluc’s ankle. In no time, it was wrapped snug and tight in such a way that the ice pack held fast to the injury.

“I’ll be back in a bit, alright? Then we can head to the dispensary together.” His father kissed him on the forehead and ruffled his hair before heading upstairs.

The two boys watched him ascend the staircase and out of sight before they spoke. Kaeya’s cheeks were stained with dried tears. Setting down his already empty mug, he inched closer, wide eyes full of worry. “I’m sorry Luc… I didn't mean for you to get hurt–”

“Kae, it's not your fault,” he shushed his brother. “I’m just a klutz.”

“But I’m the one who suggested it–”

“And I’m the one who made the choice to chase you. It's not your fault,” he reiterated with a frown, still holding the ice pack close to his ankle. “Besides, I’m supposed to be the responsible one.” He sighed, seeing their father coming down the stairs wearing slightly more formal attire.

“Are we ready, boys?” They nodded, but their father noticed both of them looked gloomy. “What's wrong? You both look as though the world’s coming to an end.”

“It's fine,” Diluc began with a mumble, slumping his head on the arm of the couch. “It's just that I keep getting hurt… I feel so clumsy.”

Kaeya seemed on the verge of tears again. “If I hadn't challenged you to a race, this wouldn't have happened–” he started crying once more.

“Stop crying, Kae!” Diluc pleaded. “I said it's not your fault–”

Crepus knelt down between them and shushed them gently, patting them each on the head as they grew silent. “Boys, it's alright. I’m glad neither of you got seriously hurt. But there are lessons to be learned here.” He turned to Kaeya. “I know you feel bad about what happened. Your brother is right though– it's not your fault.”

Kaeya still looked worried but a flash of confusion swept across his face. “It's.. not?” he mumbled through tearful sniffles.

“What have I been trying to tell you–”

“Now, Diluc,” his father warned. “Let me finish.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed Kaeya’s eyes, drying his tears and wiping his face. “It's okay to have fun and play, but we also need to know our limits and the limits of others. Taking all of that into consideration is part of growing up, you hear?”

“Mm.” The younger boy nodded his head, still sniffling and wiping his eyes. “I’m… sorry.”

“It’s alright, just learn from this for next time, okay?” The boy acknowledged him with a slight nod.

Crepus turned to his older son who was still sulking– he could practically see him berating himself on the inside. “Alright. Listen, Luc… I know how you feel.”

Diluc lifted his head to speak. “You do?” he asked incredulously.

Crepus smiled. “Of course. I know it's hard to believe, but I was a young boy once, like you two. A long time ago,” he chuckled. “And when I was younger, I used to get hurt a lot too.”

His son’s eyes widened. “Really?” Somehow, he had a hard time imagining his father as a boy, running around like them and getting hurt like he did. Their father was always at his desk or on trips, and rarely had time to play with them. He missed playing with his father, even though Kaeya had come into their life just half a year prior, taking away some of the loneliness he had felt. Diluc felt selfish that it still wasn’t enough.

“Yes, really,” his father smiled warmly. “But I had to learn to be more careful and observant, and to know my limits. Do you understand?”

“I… do,” Diluc answered. “But I just- feel so weak,” he mumbled bitterly, emphasizing the last word with disdain, avoiding his father's gaze in fear that he would agree. He just wanted his father's attention, his time, more than anything. But not like this, he thought. Instead, his deepest wish was to make his father proud instead of worried.

“You’re not weak, my son. You just need to be more careful and pay attention to your surroundings. And,” he added, twinkle in his eye. “You should also listen to your father sometimes, hm? Didn’t I tell you boys not to run around the vineyards before, because something similar happened, oh… two months ago?”

Diluc had hoped he wouldn't bring that up. But he remained silent, frown disappearing into an expression of remorse as he bobbed his head in assent to his father's words.

“Do I make myself clear?” Crepus continued. “There's a lot of space to play, yes. But the vineyards are no place for young children like yourselves to run around so freely. Especially when the workers are out there.”

“Yes, Father,” they said in unison.

“Okay. Now that that's settled, shall we head to town now?” They nodded and got ready to leave. Crepus carried him to the carriage, Kaeya trailing behind. The boys sat next to each other as their father sat in front, leading the horse.

Kaeya rested his head on Diluc’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Luc,” he whispered. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, Kae. Don't be silly,” he whispered back, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He couldn't stay upset with his brother. Inside, he remembered his father's words.

You’re not weak.

You’re right, Father, he thought to himself. I’m not. Because I’m going to be more careful… and I’m going to train and get stronger.

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch4

Description: chapter 4 - I’m not entirely sure if this is any good. I need to go through and edit it but I’ll do that when I’m closer to knowing what’s actually gonna happen 🤣 we will wait and see! I’ve posted this on ao3 as well - same username and title. I love Wes Anderson, hence the Isle of Dogs theme. Feel that it fits the theme of this fic too. Anyhoo..

I allow Gaz to lead me to a well lit room. It looks like some sort of living area. Comfortable sofas and carpeted floors. This was totally foreign to me after my time spent in the facility. I felt so out of place. I flit my gaze to Gaz who must notice my discomfort or awkwardness, and he beckons at me to sit down on the sofa. I am still zipped up inside his warm jacket, which smells of a warm vanilla scent mixed with some variation of citrus fruit.. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it is comforting and calming. I try not to make it obvious that I am taking in his scent.

The others are already situated in their seats. I feel all of their eyes itching into my skin. I shrink back into myself again. The pack Alpha, their Captain, clears his gruff throat before speaking. "We have received information from Laswell. She has found your file and is going to send it over as soon as it is secured in the system.. she has told us you are not a direct threat to us. Is this correct, Laika? Can we trust you?"

I feel like scoffing at him. Me? Can they trust me? It's almost laughable that a pack of four huge Alpha's think that I, a drugged, undesignated girl, could threaten them. Not to mention that I am not in the best of shape due to lack of nutrition and poor sleeping habits. "Well..?" he prompts. I met his gaze for the first time since they'd found me. "I pose no threat to you or your pack members, Captain" - I decide to address him officially as pack Alpha. He stands a little straighter than he was before, obviously happy with my answer. I feel a sense of relief wash over me before dropping my gaze back to the floor.

A growl echoes through the silence, the others all looking between each other to find the source of the sound. Their eyes land on me. I can feel my face redden under their scrutiny - my stomach is the source of the growl. "S-sorry" I stutter anxiously. Gaz steps forward slowly and smiles down at me. "C'mon, let's go and get some food. I could eat too." He nods towards the left and I follow the motion with my eyes and see an open door to what looks like a kitchen. I stand up nervously and follow Gaz, taking the widest possible route around the masked man and Soap, still not trusting them.

I step into the kitchen area and Gaz opens the fridge and inspects the contents. "What d'ya like?" he asks. I shrug. "Not really eaten much since- since I've been their asset.. I-I used to like soup though.." - "Soup? Let me check the cupboards. Think we've got tomato.." He moves around the kitchen smoothly, opening and closing cupboards when he doesn't find what he is looking for. I stand in the corner quietly, trying to avoid getting in the way. "C'mere" he beckons me over - "tomato or chicken?" he nods to a stack of four tins -two of each flavour- stacked neatly in the overhead cupboard. "J-just whatever is spare will be nice. Th-thanks" I whisper. "C'mon, love, try to stop being so shy with me.. you can trust me, even if you aren't sure about my packmates yet, yeah? I promise you they're good men underneath their tough exteriors.." he tries to convince me. "S-sorry.. I'll try harder" I murmur. I decide to try and be bold - I step closer to him and look over his shoulder into the cupboard to inspect the tins of soup. "Tomato would be nice.." I utter quietly. Gaz's smile is instant. It lights up the entire room, my eyes drawn to it. Wow - he had beautiful teeth. Sharp canines, gleaming white.. It reminded me that my teeth had been neglected - only able to brush them a couple of times a week when they allowed me to shower. I suddenly find myself feeling self-conscious. I haven't even properly looked in a mirror for at least a year..

I step back again, feeling a little anxious after my inner thoughts had caught up with me. Damn him and his big, perfect smile. And his deep, kind eyes. "How buttery do you want your bread?" The question snaps me out of it. "Butter?.. uhm.. same as you?" I question my own answer. "I've not had butter for ages. Just stale or mouldy bread.." I admit. He sighs sadly, but immediately tries to cheer me up. "You should see how Soap takes his bread. I swear he would use an entire block of butter per slice if he could. It's gross" he says jokingly. I release the smallest giggle at that. He is smiling so brightly now that he knows that he successfully made me laugh. My defences drop for a split second thanks to the growing comfort I am feeling in Gaz's presence, and my mouth blurts out before I can catch it "they scare me..”

Gaz snaps his gaze back down to mine - "What? Who? Soap..? He is harmless" - "and the masked one" I add blushing, anxiously. "That's Ghost - the masked one. He can take a while to warm up to strangers.. he won't hurt you though. Promise" he reassures me. My eyes follow his hand closely as he gently places it on my shoulder, attempting to comfort me, I assume. I try not to tense up or flinch at the soft touch. I just stare at his hand until he slowly withdraws it. I jump slightly when the microwave dings. Gaz pours the soup into a bowl and hands it to me with a plate full of buttered bread. I stand there confused, just staring at the food that I am holding.

"C'mon, hope you don't mind eating on the sofa. We usually just eat off our laps.." he shrugs. "It smells nice.." I compliment, following him as he holds the kitchen door open for me seeing as I had my hands full. I, once again, take the widest route around Soap and Ghost.. I sit down at the very end of the sofa and wait for Gaz to sit in the place next to me, subconsciously using him as a barrier to the outside room.

"What did Gaz make you for tea, lass?" the rich Scottish voice chirped. I jump in my seat slightly. I quietly respond "Tomato soup" without looking at him, remaining hidden behind Gaz's body. Soap leans forward and looks right at me "Smells delicious. Any leftovers, Gaz?" he asks. "Make your own... tins are in the cupboard" - "Awkt, but you made her some.." - "I'm not microwaving soup for you, Soap, piss of mate" - "Fuck sake, ya prick, though we were supposed to be packmates.." The duo go back and forward like this in a light hearted tone for a couple of minutes. "I - I don't mind letting you have this.." I offer anxiously, shakily holding my plate out towards Gaz, feeling guilty that I'd taken their food.

Gaz gently guides the plate back into my lap. "Don't be silly, bug, you haven't even started it and you haven't eaten properly for ages. Get eating!" He instructs, I listen - ever obedient. I gently lift the spoon to my mouth and slurp the soup into my mouth. I swear it's the best thing I've ever tasted. I hum quietly to myself. Unbeknownst to me, Gaz and Soap are watching me with a fond smile on their faces. I eat about half of the bowl, and a slice of bread before feeling utterly stuffed. I slowly lift my gaze from the food and glance at Gaz. "I can't eat any more.." I whisper. "You sure? You've not eaten much.." - "I'm full.." I reassure him. Soap suddenly sits forward in his seat again, making me shrink back slightly again. "Ya done, Lass?" - "mmhmm" I murmer shyly - "Here, hand it over then!" he says keenly. Before I can even process his words, he has leant over Gaz and stolen the bowl and plate from me and was groaning in pleasure at the taste. I blush slightly, embarrassed, that he hasn't even replaced the spoon I had been using. "For fuck sake, Soap, you know she's jumpy. Tone it down a bit - yeah?" Gaz suggests to Soap. "Aye, sorry just starvin' - Sorry wee'yin" he gobbles around a mouthful of bread. I just stare at the scene in front of me, lost for words.

With warm food in my belly for the first time in forever, I start feeling sleepy. I slowly unzip Gaz's jacket, now that I'm warm again, and hand it back to him. "Thanks.." I whisper, placing it on his lap. Gaz tries not to show his disappointment that you are no longer wearing his jacket - his scent. "Are you wanting me to show you to the spare room? Think it's set up ready to use.." he offers. "If that's ok.. I - I don't want to be a hassle.." - "None of that, now.. C'mon, follow me."

I stand and follow obediently again. I enter the hallway after Gaz. The walls are wallpapered with a white floral pattern. It's light and airy. Gaz walks up a set of stairs to an upper level, I follow him closely. He stops on the upper landing and points to the left hallway. "It's the second door on the right. You'll have your own bathroom too." I nod and hesitate before walking independently down the hallway, feeling a little insecure, but deciding to be brave anyway. I get to the door and slowly twist the door handle. I glance back at Gaz who just nods and turns to go back down stairs to join the rest of his pack.

I step into the room and take stock of everything in it. The walls are covered in blue and white striped wallpaper. There is a window on the back wall of the room. I check out the bathroom which is to the right hand side of the room - it has a shower, sink and a toilet, with another smaller window behind it. I step back into the main room and look at the bed. I hesitate before slowly lowering myself down on it. It's soft. I should feel comfortable, but instead I feel exposed. Unsafe. I decide to look around the bathroom again, digging through the cupboards to see what I could use. I find a few toothbrushes, still in the packs, so I remove one and hurry to brush my teeth. It's funny how such a small bit of self care can make me feel cleaner. I decide to strip from my filthy clothes and step into the shower. I turn the water on, accidentally blasting myself with freezing water before it started to heat up. I don't even squeal, being all too accustomed to cold showers. I do, however, moan when the water starts to heat up. I check out all of the soaps and products on the rack in the shower. It all looks like male stuff but I don't care. I absolutely lather myself in it. I repeat it several times over. Lather. Rinse. Lather. Rinse. And so on...

I finally step from the shower when my skin starts to wrinkle. I haven't felt this clean since - well - probably ever! The wall of steam floods the bedroom when I leave the bathroom. I get myself dry and search the chest of drawers for something clean to sleep in. From the looks of the contents inside, it looks like standard military style clothing. I find some dark joggers and a khaki t-shirt. I quickly dress, finding myself having to seriously tighten the drawstring around my waist of the trousers and roll the sleeves up of the long sleeved t-shirt. I climb into bed and pull the covers tightly around me. I toss and turn before finally dozing off.

*Gaz's POV*

I show her the directions to the room she is to stay in, deciding to stay back and let her check it out for herself. Soap had stayed in that room a few nights ago when he pissed everyone off so badly, Ghost decided to punish him by throwing him out of the pack bed for the night. I just hope he had left it clean enough for her. I walk downstairs to the rest of my pack. I sit back down in my space next to Soap, who immediately chucks his legs over me, to rest them on my lap. I massage his legs for him, making him purr. I smile softly at my pack mate.

Price speaks up then. "Kyle - what's going on with the girl then..?" - "She's scared.. terrified. Fuck knows what they've done to her but none of it has been good. I think she is warming up to me though" I reply. He nods in agreement. "Kate sent over her file. It looks like she's been tortured and drugged to comply. Her designation is unknown - but she has been the asset behind all four of the most recent Makarov hits. And several before these too, before we were called up, so she certainly isn't as harmless as she makes out." I find myself nodding too, trying to piece together what all of this means. "Who is she, then?" Soap asks. "Her government name is Y/N Y/L/N - they called her Laika - apparently she was always co-operative, or obedient, I think is the word they used. I guess she was thrashed into submission. They say she is of a gentle, anxious, nature but the drugs helped 'level' her - whatever that means" Price explains.

"Turned her into a puppet, that means. A puppet to do all of their dirty work" I spit back, disgusted and angry. "So the drugs, are they still in her system? Is that why she isn't giving off any scent or signs of her designation?" I ask. "That's something we are going to have to ask her, Kyle. The file mentions that she gets 'topped up' every couple of months when she starts showing resistance" - "Poor girl was trying to fight it" I interrupt Price.

"Don't start getting attached, Garrick." Simon grumbles at me. "Piss off" I snap back.

"I'm tired, let's go to bed, yeah, talk about it in the morning?" I suggest. "Yep, Kyle's right, bed - all of you" Price orders. We all stand and make our way to our room. I glance toward the door of Laika - Y/N's - room and all seems quiet. Hopefully she is sleeping, I think inside my head.

*Back to Laika (Y/N's) POV*

I wake, startled - seeing visions of pools of blood I had been the cause of. Seeing lifeless eyes of those I had killed. I leap out of bed and start feeling my arm for my handkerchief. Shit shit shit. I'd left it somewhere. I slide down the wall panicking, trying to remember where the hell I had put it. All this time at the facility and I'd managed not to lose it. It comes to me all of a sudden. Gaz's jacket. My handkerchief is in the pocket of his jacket. I sneak out of the room and try to quietly tip toe downstairs. The stairs are a bit creaky but being quiet is my speciality. I finally find my way to the room we had been sitting in when I had returned the jacket to Gaz. It wasn't there. My stomach sinks. A single tear falls from my eye. I slump on to the couch and try not to weep. I can't go rooting about looking for it. I will just have to calm myself down and go back to my room. I try to gather myself.

Five, or so, minutes later, I stand and start to make my way back up the stairs. I avoid all of the creaky parts of each stair and successfully make it to the upper landing. I turn toward my room and gently close the door. I fail to notice the dark, masked Alpha, watching my every move. He slinks back into his pack's room, not waking them.

I try to settle back in the bed, failing miserably. I find myself crawling under the bed with a pillow and blanket, feeling safer in an enclosed space. I finally settle into a restless sleep.

[revelboo]

I recently saw some transformers figures at target and couldn't help but laugh at how bad they were 😭. this pack was for tfone, but they just straight up put cyberverse starscream and g1 Megatron in the pack instead. and they gave optimus his g1 face, but tfone body??? idk what happened but they did my boys dirty, only b127 is from the correct universe lol. I'm definitely sticking to the blokees, they're way cuter anyways

🤣 oh those are awful.

Off to a great start- just accidentally traumatized a bunch of coworkers apparently. Someone brought in some plants from their greenhouse and my weird little brain zeroes in on a teeny jumping spider on one. So I’m just standing in an office with four other people letting it parkour over my fingers and making everyone else really uncomfortable. I was only halfway paying attention and it bungeed to freedom at some point. I’ve never seen any of them ever move as fast as when I said ‘oops.’

Everything Is Alright Pt 144

Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Head resting against him, you can feel the thrum of his spark, that steady, familiar pulse sinking into you. And you don’t know what to make of the fact that he’d stopped. That he could have taken what he wanted and hadn’t. But then maybe that’s it. Maybe he doesn’t want you. Guilt twists through you when you think of it in that light, because he’d not bonded you because he’d loved you. Or even liked you. He’d been trying to save your life and had ended up trapping himself. Neither of you have really talked about it either aside from you awkwardly thanking him. He has to resent you for that. And for shoving Star’s sparkling off on him. By all rights, he should despise you. Which is why you can’t understand when he does stuff like this, holding you so gently.

• “You’re quiet,” Megatron grumbles, chin brushing the top of your head. Upset about Starscream being upset? And you shift against him, curling into him as if seeking his warmth. The back of one of your hands cool against his plating as he reaches up to capture it in his. “If you spend all your time trying to keep Starscream happy, you’ll never be happy yourself.” Because that seeker is too mercurial, his moods shifting too quickly driven by his ambitions.

• “What about you?” You ask, throat tight. Starting to piece together patterns in his behavior. If anyone else is around, he plays the warlord. But even when it’s only the two of you, you’re not sure that he’s actually happy. He just drops the mask because you’re no threat to him. And how could he be happy when he’d been saddled with you, all of his choices stripped away? “I’m so sorry.” For getting him involved in this mess without a say. For taking his choices away. Trapping him with you.

• Stiffening when your voice breaks, he looks down and grimaces. Again? Hasn’t even done anything and you’re leaking again. Primus help him understand strange, soft organics and the way their minds work. “Why am I always upsetting you without even doing anything?” He growls, gripping your chin and tipping your face up. And you offer him a watery smile to make him vent in frustration. What imagined slight is he guilty of now?

• Almost laughing at his expression even though it’s not really funny at all, you twist around in his lap to straddle him and lean forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. And he freezes completely making you sure you shouldn’t have done that. That he really isn’t interested and he’s only touched you to aggravate Star. That’s why he’d stopped so quickly, he didn’t want you, only to mess with Star. “I really didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you manage as he just stares at you. “And you shouldn’t have to deal with this. With me.” And Starscream. Can’t understand why he’d saved you to begin with. Why he’d bothered when you’re nothing to him. And he just tips his head back to stare at the ceiling, a big hand cupping the back of your neck. “I know you didn’t want this.”

• “You little fool,” he murmurs, tone affectionate. Jaw working, he huffs through his vents, trying to figure out what you’re thinking. So sick of misunderstandings. Do you think you somehow took advantage of him? Head ducking, his mouth brushes yours as his other hand slides to your hip and tightens on you. Tugs you more flush against him. And those soft hands cling to him as you make a soft noise. “I chose this,” he growls, head lifting so his lips barely ghost against yours.

• “What do you want?” Wings flaring aggressively, Starscream’s optics narrow as Shockwave stares him down, unintimidated by his bared denta. Hates that he has no idea what’s going through the scientist’s processor. No tells to what he’s thinking. Still aside from the soft sound of his cannon slowly tapping against his thigh as his head turns back toward the door. Like he knows you’re in there with Megatron. Like he knows everything.

• Head tipping as Shockwave’s attention slides from the closed door to Megatron’s habsuite to the Seeker, he tries to figure that out himself. Because he’s been fixating on this world even before they crashed here. Had seeded this world with energon millennia ago. Chose this world for his experiments, even though there were other worlds better suited to it. So why this world? Why does this one matter to him. There’s something there in the dark corners of his processor, a memory just out of reach that doesn’t even feel like it’s his. There’s a reason why he keeps getting drawn back here, but he can’t get ahold of it. And that missing piece hurts him, digs in with jagged edges when he tries to focus on it, tries to remember.

Previous

Next

[leonsliga]

Oh there’s so many elements to this

1) Manu! They should be ending their career together, I can’t stand him being there without Thomas

2) him possibly wearing a new club shirt. The idea of it is so sad and I know he’ll end up integrating into somewhere new so easily and we know any new teammates will love him but I almost feel like retirement would’ve been easier to accept

3) ultimately our poor Thomas who couldn’t make his own decision after all those years. I’m sure away from the public eye he’s devastated by the decision and especially the handling of it. I really feel he’s been used as a scapegoat to eventually get rid of eberl. All those quotes from players past and present saying Thomas should decide, I can’t believe they couldn’t offer him a reduced salary

That picture with management for a 1 month extension is really the icing on the cake, I’m going to Munich again shortly and may have to start my own protest 🤣

I still hope one day he returns in some capacity, he IS bayern, but this current board better be in hell by that point

(And then mats too! What a time 😩)

There really is so much to unpack here, isn’t there? And god do I really wish we didn’t have to unpack any of it because I wish Thomas was staying with us. As if losing Mats wasn’t enough heartbreak already 😭 But here we are.

So, let’s start with him and Manu, shall we? Our decade partners, married for 15 years. Our mainstays. Two halves of one Kapitän—the interwoven threads of our captain’s armband. They were supposed to be inseparable. As I always say, they’re Bayern’s heart and soul. It almost felt predestined; they were supposed to retire at Bayern together. They deserved that happy ending and now they’re never going to get it. Football is a cruel mistress.

It’s funny…although it hurt to say goodbye to so many legends over the years, there was a comfort in knowing that at least we still had them. At least Thomas and Manu were still at Bayern and we could count on them being there for years to come. Now that won’t be true anymore. And nothing will make up for that.

As much as I want Thomas to keep playing if that’s truly what he wants, I’m right there with you; it’ll be so hard to stomach him in another club’s shirt. Since the beginning, all he’s ever known and loved was Bayern. And I think the whole situation is made worse by knowing he won’t be leaving by choice. While I agree with you that if he does go to some other club, he’ll integrate quickly (because what’s not to love about him after all), it won’t be home. It won’t be home because he was already forced from that home.

And god, if anyone earned the right to make their own decision—to leave Bayern Munich on their own terms, it was Thomas. He gave his life for the club. He was loyal from the beginning to the bitter end. And yet the club couldn’t give him the same loyalty in return. Worse still, by not offering him a reduced salary, they basically told him that his loyalty meant nothing. It was never about the money for Thomas. He would’ve stayed at Bayern for the love of it if they’d let him. I think that’s what kills me most; I wanted so much more for Thomas, not just because he deserved it, but because he wanted so much more. He said it himself: this decision didn’t align with his personal wishes. He didn’t ask to be collateral damage—to be caught in the crossfire of club politics and board disputes—and yet that’s what they made him. That’s what a lifetime of love and devotion earned him. To say it isn’t fair is the ultimate understatement.

This picture feels like a slap in the face—like some sort of cruel joke. Worse still, even though the board essentially ripped the Bayern crest straight from Thomas’ heart, they had the nerve to smile. Like Thomas falling on his sword to spare the club’s finances was somehow a mutual decision. Give me a break.

Sorry, I’m just so angry right now. I might be going back to Munich this month as well, so I’ll gladly join your one-person protest if you’ll have me. I genuinely think the board underestimated the love us fans have for Thomas; I think if you start a peaceful protest, you’ll be far from alone in it 🫂

Luckily, Thomas Müller’s legacy has been and always will be more than what the board could offer him. Try as they might, the board can’t ever take that away from him. They can’t take away the way a skinny, scrawny little Bayern Munich fan born in Weilheim and raised in Pähl would not only stand toe-to-toe with giants, but would run circles around them and outwit them at every turn. They can’t take away the way his genius left defenders dazed and goalkeepers stunned, or the unselfish way he helped every striker he worked with (and every other teammate of his) find the best version of themselves. They can’t take away every time he made his teammates laugh, or every time he stepped in as a surrogate coach when our real one was struggling. And most of all, they can’t take away the way we, the fans, loved him and always will. See, even though the board tried to taint his legacy, they can’t change the fact that that little boy surrounded by Bayern gear got to live his dream. Whether they like it or not, he is more FC Bayern München than they will ever be—than they could ever hope to be.

And will he come back to Bayern one day? I really hope so, because if anyone represents the club—if anyone could do Bayern justice, it’s Thomas. After all, he knows what mia san mia means better than anyone else ❤️ he is what this club needs, now and always.

[fandomzwriterk]

can I request yandere Scott summers x reader smut

The New “Grey” pt2

Warnings: NSFW material + Single!Scott + slight out of character Scott + ropes are used

A/N: sure I’ll go ahead and try😋 thanks for the request yall making me follow the Scott Summers hype train I swear 🤣🤣 I love yall requesting smut even though I’m not the greatest 😅😅

NSFW below the cut👇🏻

“Scott Summers you are an insufferable man!”

“Will you shut up Jean you’ve been complaining all day about something unimportant!”

“Unimportant?! I’m asking if you love me! How is that not important to you?!”

You were down the stairs in the living room, everyone around you hearing Scott and Jean argue upstairs. Logan and Gambit were annoyed, having to deal with this for the fifth time this week.

“My chérie why do you look so blue?” Gambit asked, sitting right next to you on the couch without even asking. “Is it because of the ex lovers upstairs?”

You ignored him as he leaned close, trying to get you to say something. However, Remy didn’t like that response, so he carefully put a hand on top of yours, slowly going up your arm. Split second later and you slapped Remy’s face as hard as you could. This wasn’t the first time he’d try something, but this was the last straw with him “toying” with you.

“Ooh ma belle I love it when you’re mean.”

“Okay that’s enough!” Logan shouted at Gambit

“Fuck off Logan it’s not your business.”

“It is my business when you’re touching her and she doesn’t want it. She clearly doesn’t want you.”

“And what makes you say that Logan? I don’t see anyone crawling on their hands and knees to ask her to love them.”

“Are you so sure Gambit?” A voice growled behind you

You both looked behind you, Scott standing there with his arms crossed, eyes seeming to burn into Gambit’s face as a way to say “back off”. Scott had been “hovering” around you since he and Jean started fighting. Maybe they were truly done, after all Scott told you he loved you more than Jean.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a conversation with you Gambit.”

You stood up to leave, just about to step past Scott as everyone went their separate ways.

“Where do you think you’re going my sweet?” Scott cooed in your ear

Remy had his back to you, currently not seeing what Scott was doing.

“So what did you want to talk about mon ami-“

As soon as Remy started turning around, Scott punched the man in the face, causing Remy to get whiplash and slammed into the wall. Holding the side of his face, Remy’s eyes went into feral mode, his eyes focused right on Scott and no longer you.

“What the fuck Cyclops?!” He shouted

“Touch her again and it’s gonna hurt a lot worse next time.”

Scott was fuming, and you could already tell. You’ve been trying to put space between you two, but now it seemed like Scott wasn’t having it.

“Come here my sweet.” Scott growled as he grabbed your hand to pull you along

You turned to look at Remy, his eyes glaring at the back of Scott’s head but also seeming to finally understand what’s been going on behind the scenes.

“Scott? Can you let me go?” You asked as he practically ran up the steps, pulling you along

Scott let out a grunt, not acknowledging what you just said. Turning the corner and walking down the hall to his room, the grip on your hand tighten. This wasn’t the Scott you’ve always known. He’s supposed to be chasing after Jean, and you wanted him to stop hurting your friends.

“Get in here.” He growled practically throwing you into the room

You stumbled, tripping on your own feet from the force of his push. Scott was standing by the door, his fingers playing with the lock to make sure nobody came to find you two alone. You crawled away, getting your back to the wall right under the window. Scott was strong, also intimidating as he walked slowly up to you, smiling to himself as he saw you desperately trying to get away with nothing but the only way out being the window or the locked door behind him.

“Sweetheart don’t run I just want to love you.”

His words were sweet, almost covering up the bad intentions he had behind his actions as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to him. His other hand went over your mouth to cover whatever you had to say.

“Now… be a good little sweetheart and obey my commands.” He growled into your ear as he had you squished between him and the floor

You could only nod as Scott stood up, walking to the closet that was once his and Jean’s. His attention wasn’t on you, so now would be a good time to get away and find Gambit or Storm or even Logan. So, you waited for a few seconds, his back to the rest of the room as you quietly stood up, trying to calmly get to the door. So, you sped up a little faster, your hands almost on the doorknob to get out. Too late, it was locked, and Scott most likely had the key. Your attempt was failing as you felt Scott’s presence behind you.

“Little sweetie I thought I said to be a good little pet.”

He grabbed the back of your head, pulling back and then slamming you into the door facing him. His other hand held a long rope. You felt your legs shake at what you figured he was going to do to you.

“Now my dear… I’ve been so frustrated for the last couple of months and since Jean could never satisfy me… you will be my new love that pleases me.”

His tone was sinister, shoving your hands over your head and keeping eye contact with you as he got it around your wrists. Then, he spun you around and had your arms behind you. You were scared. You didn’t even have to guess what his intentions were in this moment as he pushed you further into the door, feeling his hands go down your body.

“I don’t have time to deal with the formalities… so we’re doing this my way.”

He yanked down your bottoms, finding your thighs clenched together out of what you told yourself was fear. Fear? Or was it need?

“So sweet my dear. Now, be a good little slut and take it.”

His one hand gripped your hands that were tied together, the other holding his hard cock to your slimy and wet hole. You were scared,.. but also interested in what he had planned. No! He was just divorced from Jean and now that he’s single, he went right to you.

“Scott please~” you whined

“Is my good little pet needing this in you already? Well then don’t mind if I…”

It was silent for a second right before you felt something hard and warm go inside you. It was so good for your insides, just barely being prepared for him and still tight for him. Scott murmured a quick profanity as he stopped when he was fully inside you.

“Fuck you feel so good my sweetheart. Now… I’m gonna make you fucking submit to me.”

The grip on your tied wrists got tighter as he slowly pulled out, before pumping right back in. Scott was groaning your name out loud so much you wondered how nobody could hear you two from downstairs.

“Scott.” Was all you could say as a moan, feeling your body go numb to him as he slowly started to fuck you

“Yeah? Does my cock make you feel good? Fuck this is so much better than Jean.”

He went faster, holding onto you as tight as he could. All he could say was your name occasionally with a few profanities into the air. The fact your hands were behind your back and you were being basically fucked into a door had your mind spiraling at how Scott was making you feel. It felt… amazing. It felt odd knowing it was Scott, Jean’s now ex-husband, being the one fucking you into numbness. Scott was losing his mind in you, and you sure as hell felt the same as he kept fucking you harder and harder, the floor creaking under you two.

“Oh god….” Scott moaned out

He was getting sloppy now, biting on the back of your neck as he kept thrusting himself deeper each time. It hurt, but in a good way and you wanted more.

“Scott please! Just let me cum please!”

He laughed behind you, the pleasure starting to get to him too as he pressed you fully against the door, his hands on your hips now to hold you in place.

“Alright my sweetheart. I’m gonna- gonna cream inside. It’s mine to fuck and fill up. Mine.”

Your nails scratched the door as Scott felt you about to cum as well. His grip was tight, sure to leave a few marks on your body for the next couple of days.

“Fuck. Oh I’m cumming my sweetest.”

His final slam up into you was hard, feeling his cock twitch and squirt his cum into the deepest parts of you, while you came hard on his cock, painting a nice white ring at the base of it. There was a lot, most of it inside of you though, and it was a warm comforting feeling. Scott let you go, picking you up bridal style as he placed you on his own bed, quickly undoing the ropes that tied your tired and red arms. You smiled at him, feeling comfortable on all the soft cushion beneath. He smiled back. Finally, he looked happy for once.

“I’m going to go make sure Gambit never gets his hands on my sweetie ever again. If he does, oh he’s gonna regret it.” Scott spoke as he fixed his pants, pulling up his boxers as well to make it look like nothing happened.

You could only blink at him, watching him put his hand on the door and pull a key out of his pocket. Sure enough, he was out the door. He stood in the doorway for a second, looking at you with a big smile.

“I love you my sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re gonna only be mine and I can forget about Jean.”

And then he closed it behind him.

The end…

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I still don’t see the sexual appeal of Scott but you guys be you and I’ll write whatever yall want.

[lemotmo]

I agree with all of this, "hope this helps" 🤣🤣. It would not be cheating at all and even if it was cheating I still wouldn't care 😅. Where do you sit on this topic?

Q. Let me start by saying I desperately want Buddie together but I have a growing suspicion that they're going to insinuate or outright show that they kissed at the bachelor party and that would taint them from go for me because putting them together through cheating, especially on a character the show established had turned into a really good guy, is so unnecessary and disgusting and ruins them right off the bat.

A. I wasn't going to reply to this ask but I have several similar asks currently sitting in my inbox so I'm going to respond even though this person is clearly a tommy trying to pretend to be a Buddie. How are you all still so bad at all of this nearly a year on? Your ask is a completely disingenuous take. If having them kiss at the bachelor party ruins them from the start for you then you don't 'desperately' want them together. You don't want them together at all and I don't know why you feel the need to pretend that you do. When the bachelor party takes place Buck and Tommy had been on ONE very bad date. Yes, they had a conversation where Buck said he wanted to try again but they were not a couple. You can't cheat on someone you've had one date with. Furthermore the show definitely didn't establish that Tommy had become some stand up remarkable human being, that is laughable. He was a sexist racist when they needed him the first time around for Chim and Hen, and he was a gay man the second time around when they needed someone for the coming out storyline. That's it. The show didn't care to establish anything else about him. The fact he left Buck standing on a curb after he understandably panicked a bit during their first date and then told Buck Abby went crazy when he dumped her pretty much illustrates though that he wasn't a great guy.

Forcing real life moral codes onto fictional characters is always a recipe for pain though. You can't do that. The very nature of the media they exist in doesn't allow for real life moral rules to always be followed. Real life people don't always do the right thing. Expecting fictional character to do so is ridiculous. Drama comes from their mistakes so television shows will always have them screw up and make bad decisions every now and again. I don't want them to have kissed at the bachelor party because I don't want their first kiss to be a flashback, but I won't be terribly bothered if that is the route they take because it's not that big of a leap to make. They made a point of making both of them drunk, Oliver mentioned in an interview while talking about filming the karaoke scene that everyone needs a little liquid courage now and then. They made a point of releasing the deleted scene with Eddie telling Chris about how he met Shannon and what he liked so much about her when they first met. The show then intentionally had the bachelor party mirror that story with Buck talking all night long and showing how close and intertwined they both were all night long. The karaoke song even fit the callback of that story from Eddie. We also cannot ignore the fact that Eddie basically blew up his life following the bachelor party so going back and showing that something did indeed happen between the two of them that night would not be some astronomical story leap. I have said from the beginning they filmed way too much content and spent way too much money for those scenes to just never come up again or be shown. I don't think we're getting the actual karaoke scene but I do think we might get some of the other scenes in a flashback of some kind but we don't know that for sure. That New Year's Day post was definitely an intentional choice and it was certainly an interesting choice, but it doesn't necessarily indicate anything bachelor party related is coming. It could just be one more thing to add to the growing belief that Buddie is very much coming though.

Lastly, even if Buck and tommy had been in a full blown years long relationship and the show had Buck and Eddie get together by cheating on him I still wouldn't care or be angry. They could murder him, chop him up and dispose of the body and I would call it the most romantic thing ever. I genuinely don't care about him at all. Hope this helps ☺️

Thank you Nonny! 🤗

As for where I stand on this topic?

Listen, I grew up on soap operas where everyone cheated on everyone.😋 It never bothered me. In fact, it brought some extra tension and I love that in a show. So I don't really care one way or the other.

But also, Tommy wasn't his boyfriend at that time. They were trying things out and so far Tommy had proven himself to be a bit of an ass. So no, if we find out that Buck and Eddie kissed or made out during that bachelor's party? I will cheer.🙌🙌🙌

I've been here since te beginning. They need to get this show on the road and if this is the way they have chosen to go? I'm fine with it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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